Submission and Arousal

Warning: For those who know me personally, you're likely about to find out a whole bunch of shit you never knew about me, and possibly never wanted to.  Just a heads up.

Life is a funny thing.  I spent a large portion of yesterday working on notes and outline ideas for the fifth book in The Society Series.  One thing I knew I wanted to work on including right away was Annie's training with Sean.  In At The Manor parts one and two, we see her become aroused by one simple, largely non-sexual thing - submitting to him.  Once she gets past the lingering fear she has from her past, the idea of giving over control to him is more arousing than anything he could physically do to her, and that's a level of eroticism I want to delve deeper in to.  Annie is an extremely strong, fiery, stubborn and independent woman who has made a life for herself developing and implementing slave training techniques.  She's the type to take charge in a crisis.  She specializes in dealing with difficult slaves, the kind many wouldn't give a second thought to.  And she becomes totally, completely, undeniably aroused by handing over the control she has fought so hard for to him.  Oh yeah.  I can hear you calling bullshit from here.  This has to be pure fantasy - it is, after all, from a kink erotica novel.  No way in real life would a woman like Annie go weak at the knees simply from the idea of giving over control to someone else, man or woman, no matter how good looking.

Alright.  Let's take a look at real life.  I consider myself fairly accomplished.  I've owned my own business since I was twenty-three, adding my second at twenty-eight (I'm twenty-nine now).  I teach.  I'm working on my seventh novel, with the prospect of some non-fiction pieces on the horizon as well.  I'm relatively well known in my home town, though not always by name for a number of reasons.  I'm stubborn to a fault, fiercely protective of my friends and family and not one to bite their tongue when it comes to sharing my opinion.  I have also experienced exactly what I write about there first hand.  It's rare, sure.  Very, very few men (and only one woman) have ever had the "Sean effect" on me, but when it happens, it's incredible.  One word, one look, and the crotch of my pants would be drenched.  Heaven help me if I was wearing a skirt at the time.  That look, that word?  Most commonly there is nothing sexual to it at all.  It's that look that says "I own you." or "I control you."  It's not so much what is actually said as it is the tone of voice, and the attitude of the person saying it.  It's that feeling I describe in this bit from At The Manor:

 Never had someone been able to make me feel so much by speaking only one word at a time. It was as though some unseen force had control of my limbs as I sank to my knees in the soft, dewy grass.

In my experience, it's been very much this way.  Sure, there has been that little voice in my head yelling "what the fuck are you doing!", especially in the beginning.  But in those moments there is nothing I can do but obey.  Not because of any threat, spoken or otherwise, nor any agreement.  It was for no other reason than because he said so.  Yes.  It's that simple.  It's hard to explain it any further, though I wish I could.  The feeling goes from head to toe, engulfing the entire body.  It's an electric tension, radiating and causing you to feel your heartbeat in places you either didn't know you could or hadn't in ages.  Since that first taste of it when I was eighteen, I've been hooked.  I can't help it, and I don't want to.  As I've grown, my desire to submit has grown right along with me.  Now, here's the twist - I'm a switch.  I've had two of my own submissives in the past, one male and one female.  I'm pretty sure I can still make him twitch and turn red with just two little words.  He was a large man, resembling a football player, and a good bit older than me, and that didn't matter.  He knew who he answered to.  I'll never forget, at least two years after we parted ways, getting a phone call from him out the blue.  He was calling to thank me for something I had taught him, as it had just played a part in landing him a major promotion at work.  I couldn't have been more proud.

Too many people confuse the desire to submit with willing to submit to anyone.  I've been at parties before where I was wearing a collar - sometimes given to me by my Dom, other times just an accessory - and had some asshat wannabe dominant come over to me and try to tell me what to do.  My reactions have ranged from laughing and walking away to looking strait at the man and saying, "Do you see your collar around my neck?  I don't think so."  I've been told I can't "really" or "truly" submit because I'm also able to be (and quite enjoy being) the dominant partner at times.  It has been only for the sake of good manners that I haven't told these close minded idiots off on the spot.  I'm just as capable of fully submitting as one who's never been on the wielding end of a whip.  If I want to.  I've been told I just haven't met the right guy that can make me "really" submit.  Oh, I beg to differ.  I've had my Sean, more than once.  Most people only ever see my dominant side.  Friends have laughed and cracked jokes at the thought of me being told what to do by my significant other.  I just smile and let them keep thinking that.  Those who have found themselves with the ability to control me on this level have taken great pleasure in having someone like me willing to submit to them.

I digress, however.  Submission and sex are frequently linked.  They don't have to be, but it does add a degree of fun.  In my experience (I know, I know, I keep saying that), submission and arousal are almost always linked.  Let's take a little trip back in time for another real life example.  I'm eighteen.  I've been hanging out in a hot tub with the man who would become my first Master (though we are nothing more than friends at this point), and become a bit over heated, so I'm sitting on the steps going up in to it.  He doesn't ask if I can walk.  Doesn't ask if I need anything.  He gets out behind me, hands me a towel and says two little words.  Don't move.  In the few minutes I am alone while he gets me water, I barely even blink.  In the back of my mind, I'm wondering why.  I'm also trying to figure out the sudden non-hot tub related wetness between my legs.  It wouldn't be until several weeks later that I would even begin to have an answer to that, and for years I've tried to figure out why it does what it does to me.  As the years passed, I got to the point where the mere idea of submitting to the right person, being totally in their control - if only for a little while - drives me wild.  I'll even admit that one of them is Sean.  I totally have a crush on my own character.  All the rest, as few as they are, happen to be real people.

It does happen.  A strong woman can find complete bliss in submitting to the person of her choosing, and once she does, the control she is used to having over her life is gone.  Sure, she may frequently make her own decisions, but that person's control is always there, and she knows it.  A woman who is dominant in her everyday life can become inexplicably aroused by the delicate chain collar around her neck, right in the middle of a meeting.  A powerful woman's happy place can be kneeling at the feet of the One who controls her as they watch television in the evening.  And it is totally and completely possible to become aroused to the point of inability to walk or speak or think clearly just by having that person completely strip away the power and control you have during your every day life.

Looking Back at Becoming Charity

I let myself have the weekend off from actual writing, thinking I could give my brain a bit of a break.  You see, when I really get going, the scenes seem to play in my mind and it's as though I'm simply a fly on the wall, watching, my hand furiously typing away to get it all down on the page.  Sure, I start out on a new piece with a basic outline for the plot, but that's about it.  I love when this happens.  I'll go back and read over what I have and often find myself thinking, 'wow, I wrote that?'.  Ok, back to that whole giving my brain a break thing.  Yeah.  It didn't happen.  As has become more and more frequent, I found my mind wandering back to the first book I published, The Society: Becoming Charity.  What I was once so proud of has become a literary thorn in my side.

I began writing it nearly seven years ago.  It was a release, a way to deal with some things that were going on in my life.  I had no intention of it being published, ever.  I shared bits on a couple of different sites and with a few friends, and that was it.  Then my friends who had read it began telling me I should look in to getting published, and finally I did.  I worked hard to get the book to a good ending point, found a publisher who would take something that didn't have a romantic sub-plot and that was written in the first person instead of the third.  I was thrilled when it was accepted, waiting eagerly for it to go live.  Then came the second and third books.  It was somewhere between their publication dates that I began to wonder about the first book, started to think it might not be the best it could have been.

It really hit me when I had the compilation book The Society: The First Three published.  I went back through all three to double check for typos, continuity errors, etc.  I found myself reading through the first one and cringing more often than not.  Now, I know most artists are their own worst critics, and that people say you'll never be completely happy with your work.  Since I can be a perfectionist, I set a goal for myself in order to know when a piece was ready for publication.  It's when I can read through and have it be something that I would buy, read and enjoy myself.  I'm a picky reader, especially when it comes to erotica, so this seemed a reasonable goal.  It's worked.  Unfortunately, that goal was set after my first had been published and now I find that it doesn't live up to that standard.  Now, after a long while of thinking it over, I've finally started.

I copied the original content in to a new file and dove in, scalpel in hand.  Overly harsh or extreme scenes will be reworked.  Repetitive scenes will be cut and glossed over.  New scenes will be added to give the book a good, solid plot as well as to allow the characters to become more fully developed.  I refuse to be embarrassed by the book I was once so proud of any longer, and it is my sincere hope that you, dear reader, will not hold this against me.  I was young and angry when it began, and in my determination to be published, I gave you something sub-par.  Believe me when I say I can hear the voices of my English teachers back through the years, and they're all saying the same thing.  "What were you thinking!!"  I am not sure when the edited version will be available, but hopefully it will be soon, and followed by the fourth book in my The Society series, Vanished!

To those of you who actually read the original first book all the way through, you have my thanks and my apologies.  For those who put it down after the first few pages, I understand completely, and I sincerely hope you might give it a second chance when the edited version becomes available.  I'm planning to post some of the edited bits here so that you can decide if it will be worth it to you or not.

Now, enough living in the past!  Time for me to get back to work, the sooner to give you wonderful readers something you can really enjoy!

Teaser Time!

  As I sat down in front of the computer this morning, coffee in hand, I thought it might be fun to read over some of my older pieces.  If it helped jump start my writing for the day, even better.  I picked At The Manor, Part 1, the second book from my series The Society.  I had forgotten how much I loved the character Sean, the Irish born male slave of Susan and Arnold.  That's when I decided that a scene with him in it would be the very first teaser to go on my blog.  This scene is from At The Manor, Pt. 1, chapter 1.  The  heroin Annie has just attended her first party at Susan and Arnold's home (which is The Manor), and realized that she has really missed being with a man.  Feeling comfortable with Susan, she confesses this fact, and a solution is quickly found.

So, without further delay, here it is!  Enjoy, and Happy Friday!
(Warning: Coarse language)

I ran a hot bath as I stripped out of my party clothes and laid them on the window seat. After looping my hair on top of my head and pouring myself a glass of the burgundy laced with spices and restorative herbs, I slipped in to the steaming water and closed my eyes. I must have dozed off, because next thing I knew, a firm hand was on my shoulder, shaking me lightly.

“Miss?” The male voice had more than just a hint of an Irish brogue in it. I shook myself awake and looked up.

“I've a towel for ya, Miss, if ya would like to get out o' the tub.”

I smiled.

“Yes, thank you Sean.”

I took his hand to steady myself as I stepped out of the tub and in to the warm, fluffy towel that Sean held out to me. When I was dry, Andy held out a deep red silk robe and I slipped happily in to its softness. Pouring myself another glass of the wine, I went out in to the bedroom and settled myself among the plush pillows on the bed. The boys stood on either side of the large bed, awaiting my instructions. Sipping my wine, I took a moment to look each of them over. No longer in their formal serving uniforms as they had been when I had seen them earlier, the boys were dressed in what could be best described as black leather loincloths.

Sean seemed to be just under six feet tall, with a lean, well muscled body, creamy pale skin with surprisingly few freckles and a thin cover of golden red hair across the top of his chest. The wavy, golden red hair on his head was just long enough to cover the tops of his ears, and gave him a carefree look without seeming poorly groomed, and his deep green eyes had a glint of respectful laughter. Andy was taller, though only by an inch or two, and while he was similarly lean and well muscled, his lightly tanned olive skin and lack of chest hair made a lovely contrast to his slave brother. His hair, with more curl than wave, was a beautiful chestnut brown that barely touched his shoulders, and his eyes looked to be almost amber in color.

“Remove your uniforms.” I commanded them softly. It had been too long since I had been able to be with a man.

They were quickly devoid of garments, each sporting a bare pubic region and partially erect cock that I could tell would be more than satisfying despite their semi-flacid state. I could feel my body beginning to tingle just from the sight of them, and so, placing my wine glass on the bedside table, took a deep breath and said,

“I assume Susan told the two of you what I would like?” They nodded, and my control over what happened in my bed ended there.

Andy grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me from the bed, looping his arms through mine and effectively trapping me against him. Sean moved around the bed to where we were and pulled the robe open, then took his time in looking me over. He nodded to Andy, and next thing I knew I was fully naked and bound over a small, padded table that they had brought in while I was in my bath. My legs were spread, a small, angled pillow was placed under my hips to keep them at just the right height and my breasts had been pushed through holes that were just the slightest bit too small. I made a mental note of this unique form of breast bondage just before a pair of clamps dug in to my nipples and impaired my ability to think clearly. Andy stepped in front of me and presented his cock to me as Sean ran a hand over my pussy, wiggling a finger in to my slit and finding me wet already.

I happily opened my mouth and began to suck on the cock in front of my face, thoroughly enjoying the taste of a man for the first time in I don't know how long. He moaned and wrapped my hair around one hand, pushing his cock in deeper. Sean found my clit and began to play with it while spreading me open with his other hand and inserting two fingers in to my pussy. I moaned loudly around the cock in my mouth and Andy gave a little chuckle that had just a hint of cruelty to it.

“Sounds like this little slut is really enjoying herself.” He said, pushing his cock even further in to my mouth and down my throat just a little.

“Oh, for certain she is. Her cunt's drippin' wet already.” Was Sean's reply. “Though I bet I know what she really wants.”

He slapped my ass hard on each side.

“Ya want my cock in yer tight little hole, slut?” He said in a teasing tone and I nodded my head as best I could while sucking hungrily on Andy's throbbing cock.

Andy pulled out of my mouth, yanked my head up by the hair and said,

“Ask for it then, you horny little bitch. Beg for it.”

I shuddered with pleasure and anticipation at his words and his tone.

“Please, may I have a cock in my pussy? Please, please let me have your cock in my pussy?” The words seemed foreign yet natural and I could feel my own juices begin to drip down my thighs. He yanked a littler harder on my hair and said,

“I said beg, slut!”

“Please, please put your cock in me! Please, I need your cock, I need to be fucked! Please let me have your cock!”

“That's better!” They said in chorus.

Before I knew what was happening, Andy had shoved his cock back in to my mouth and Sean had slammed his in to my pussy. I felt waves of pleasure wash over me as they simultaneously pounded in to my body, fucking back against Sean as best I could while bound to the table. After a while, he reached around me and began to play with my clit again and I could feel orgasm building. Andy sensed this and began to work his cock down in to my throat, cutting off my ability to breath while Sean fucked me harder and rubbed furiously at my clit.

When I was right on the edge, Andy pulled back and just as I took a huge gulp of air, the orgasm hit me. My screams of ecstasy were cut short by Andy's cock being pushed back in to my mouth and I began to suck hard once more, without even thinking about it. As Andy fucked my mouth in a way very similar to how Sean was fucking my pussy, I was pushed over the edge to a second orgasm at the same time that I felt them both emptying their loads in to me. This only served to arouse me further, making the orgasm much more intense.

It didn't end there. Before sitting down to catch their breath, Andy attached a small yet high powered vibrator to my clit. They watched from the bed as I moaned and writhed in my bondage, cum leaking from my freshly fucked twat and my lips swollen from the abuse my mouth had taken. After what seemed like forever to me, I heard one of them unzip a bag and take something from it. I didn't know what it was until I felt Sean behind me, lubing the large butt plug with the juices leaking from my pussy.

Andy grabbed each of my ass cheeks firmly and spread them wide, eliciting a loud moan from me that only rose in volume as I felt the large toy being pressed firmly against my as-yet unused hole. There was a sharp pain as it forced my body to stretch to its girth, and then it was in, stuffing my tight little asshole completely. It was then that I was unbound and placed on my back on the bed, my head hanging over the edge. Andy was now between my legs, his cock hardening again and Sean was rubbing the tip of his own partial erection over my lips, prodding my mouth open. I swirled my tongue around it until it was long and firm once more while Andy rubbed his up and down my wet and swollen pussy.

The angle my head was at was just right so as to allow Sean to push his cock in to my mouth and strait down my throat with minimal resistance, and I gagged only a little as he did so. Andy took his turn with my pussy, pushing in to me just as slowly as Sean was pushing his in to my throat, until I was completely impaled on their massive cocks from both ends. The combination of their cocks filling my cunt and mouth, and the large plug up my ass was enough to push me over the edge right there and I convulsed under them as I orgasmed again. As though it had all been choreographed, they slowly and simultaneously fucked me, the long, slow thrusts driving me wild with desire. They pushed me to the edge and held me there for some time before the cock in my mouth was once more pushed deep enough to prevent breathing and the one in my pussy began to pound in to me hard.

I arched off the bed involuntarily, cumming hard and almost forcing Andy's cock out of my pussy with it's convulsions. Both cocks were slammed deep in to their respective holes as they began to pulse and shoot their hot cum in to my body. Sean's cock was so far down my throat that I had no choice but to swallow it, though I knew I would have chosen that on my own if given the chance. Andy's cock was pumping a large load in to my pussy and the feel of it was heavenly.

Even as I could feel his member receding from my throat on it's own, Sean kept my face pulled against his pelvis, stroking my hair as one might stroke the head of a favorite pet. Andy pulled slowly out of my pussy, but I wasn't empty for long as he inserted a plug in to my recently vacated hole. For a fleeting moment, I thought that there was no way I could manage to hold that small toy inside my body. That thought vanished as I felt it being inflated, stretching and filling my pussy until it simply could not be inflated any further. That was when Sean pulled out of my mouth and bent down to look me in the eyes. In that voice with the tantalizing hint of Ireland, he said to me,

“Looks like the little slut is enjoying herself. Did ya like having my cum forced down yer throat?”